fablefanonfandomcom-20200214-history
Fable: The Return Chapter 5
The king of Albion and Reaver explore the mysteries of the ancient Guild of Heroes. Chapter 5 Reaver broke the king from his trance as he landed right behind him from the ropes. "A damn shame that is, a damn shame indeed." Reaver tapped the guard's body with his foot. "At least the poor sod died from the fall; that's more than most get when they come down the hole." The king knelt down and shut the empty eyes of the fallen guard. The remaining four guards soon joined them on the ground. the four of them collectively honored the dead guard and then made formation around the king. The king now took this moment to look at where they were. Before him, there was a large golden door in the shape of a circle. It was sealed shut and looked to have been that way for decades. "Is this the way in Reaver?" "No, majesty, we are already in." The king turned around to see the giant cavern they were now standing in. It was a huge circular room. The elevation of the floor rose with steps all the way to a central circle, which he believed was once very important. Covering the walls of the circle was a collection of, now slightly faded, colorful paintings depicting the story of a great hero at the peak of the Guild's history. The story told of a farm boy from a village known as Oakvale and how the village was burned and he was recruited by the Guild. The farm boy grew up to be a Hero and went on a quest to find and save his mother and sister, knowing that they may still be alive. Along the way, he learned of a great power within his blood after he found his sister. The king took special note of the fact that the sister was blinded. He continued to study the paintings and saw the true villain in this story: an ancient evil man named Jack of Blades - a legend who was now long-dead. The king remembered this story as a child and realized that these paintings must be at least six hundred years old. As Reaver stated, the floor of this hall had almost entirely collapsed, leaving only small portions of what was once a grand space. The remainder of the floor was occupied by ancient tables and books. A few miners also occupied the area with small lanterns lighting their way. WHO looked to the ceiling and found it to also be collapsed, now replaced by layers of stone. Dust clogged the air, but somehow it smelled fresher than the air coming down the hole. "This place is incredible. To think…I'm standing where my father once did, at the beginning of his journey to save Albion. I'm finally standing where it all began," the king breathed. "I do believe it began with a gunshot out of your precious castle," Reaver interjected. "The actual journey, Reaver. When he stood here, he must have realized what he was truly setting out to do; he realized that this was real. He realized it just as I did when I held his guild seal in my hands for the first time, when the power within my blood was tapped and activated. This is the place where the same thing happened to him." The king took his first steps in the ancient hall and walked toward the center circle. He reached it, stood in the very center and looks around him. He felt a sense of power he had never felt before in all his years. He felt youth touch his aging body once more. "There is something here, some source of Will energy, it is making me feel…different." "I felt the same sensation when I stood upon the circle," Reaver admitted. "An odd feeling, really, it forced me to remember things that I had long since banished from my mind. I suddenly remembered my younger years, when life was simpler." The king saw a light damper on the smile that always blessed Reaver's pale face for the first time. "I remember my childhood… playing with Logan in the garden, running all throughout the castle's halls." He paused. "I remember the last time I saw my father - how Walter looked after me from then on. Walter… I remember going down into the caves in Aurora…which I suppose was the last time I really saw him, as well. He wasn't the same after that; his smile never carried as much warmth as it once did." "Indeed. Take as long as you like with your exploration your majesty." Reaver walked about the floor of the hall and to a parchment on the table. "Looking at this now. It seems that this place is called the Chamber of Fate, if that means anything to you at all." "At least now we have a name for this hall. The Chamber of Fa-" the king doubled over in pain and grabbed his head. "Do you remember me?" He heard a voice deep within the core of his head. The king screamed but could not hear himself doing it. "Of course you don't. You don't know me, nobody does anymore. I have fallen out of even myth it would seem." He could finally make out that the voice booming in his head was that of a woman, one who was very cold and strong. "There is more power where you stand than you could possibly imagine. But, if your heroic nature makes you seek out the source, check that tome lying under the table. It is in a large stack, fourth from the bottom with a green binding. I will be waiting for you, Hero." The voice finally faded away when Reaver knocked the king away from the circle. "I'm guessing that all of the nostalgia of your father's great footsteps got to your head?"